Hero Alone
by Masked Angel
Summary: Harry and Draco are bitter rivals, and one must be the hero. Who will it be, and why? Possibly first in a series. More chapters to be uploaded soon. Please R&R. Chapter Six uploaded!
1. Double Star

Disclaimer and Claimer: I do not own Harry Potter or pretty much anything in this fanfiction other than the basic plot line which I would copyright. Any copying or posting of this fic without my permission is strictly prohibited. All characters and the settings of the Hogwart's Express belong to JK Rowling.

**Hero Alone: **Prologue

Riv

The sky was dark and gloomy, ominous clouds blocking every last gleaming of the sun's light. The rain fell in torrents upon the hills and valleys causing woodland creatures to flee to their burrows for protection from the harsh drops of water.

Harry sat alone in the compartment having requested that Hermione and Ron leave him. He wasn't lonely. He was never lonely. Not in seventeen years of his life could he recall missing his parents, or wanting anything more than to just be alone without needing to depend on anyone or anything for survival. 

He supposed he had been mean to Ron and Hermione. They had wanted to help, to make everything better for Harry. Poor fragile Harry, scrawny and pale. He needed time to think, not that he hadn't had that time over the summer. All those sleepless nights were perfect times for going over everything in his mind, the attack on the castle, Fred and George, dying the death of heroes. Yes, he remembered everything, but right now his mind was elsewhere. It was not in the past, but the future and what lay ahead for Harry. 

He was becoming well acquainted with the peace of solitude when a familiar, sneering voice split the silence like a knife, "All alone Potter?" Harry looked up to see the boy, slightly taller than he with fair hair, light eyes, and a pale milky complexion over a will defined chin and nose. Draco Malfoy had changed from the scrawny white ferret of his fourth year to quite a handsome man at the start of his seventh, "Your friends afraid of you now Potter? Do the mudblood and the weasel not want to be seen with Voldemort's cousin?"

"Shut up Malfoy," came the quiet, short response. It was true, Harry was Voldemort's cousin. Second cousin actually as Voldemort was Harry's great uncle's son. This was one of the many things that had raced its way through Harry's brain during all of those sleepless summer nights.

"Scared Potter?" continued Malfoy's sneer, "Scared of what you're going to become? Scared of what you're gong to do?" With the passing phrases, Draco had been inching closer and closer to Harry until their faces were no more than an inch apart and Draco's voice was hardly above a slight hiss, "You're no hero Potter. Evil flows through your veins. It pounds in your chest. It whispers in your ear. Don't try to feel so pure Potter because you're no better than your parent's murderer. You can't refuse your Destiny. The New Dark Lord sits in this train!" Draco's last sentence was a proclamation that was projected at least a car in either direction, "Farewell Potter," he left the way he came in as through the opposite doors rushed Hermione and Ron looking awkward, nervous, and, in Ron's case, scared.


	2. Past Friends, Future Allies

Chapter 2: Past Friends, Future Allies

Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I owned any of this I would be rich and pwerful and have some actual talent. Alas, I simply reap stuff off of gifted authors.

            "Why was Malfoy in here Harry? Was he upsetting you?" asked Hermione, that motherly tone that she always used with Harry came to her voice as naturally as breathing. The years had treated Hermione well, Harry noticed. She had grown taller and taken on a woman's shape. Her hair, once a mess of frizz and disorderly curls, had now become a head of sleek, regular curls that framed her face beautifully. Her expression, or more particularly that stern frown, reminded him that it was the same Hermione who had rescued him on countless occasions.

"He always upsets me," responded Harry tonelessly, "What would make this time different?" Harry was sure the years hadn't treated him nearly as well as they had Hermione, probably more like they had treated Ron who was standing in the doorway of the compartment. 

Ron had grown taller, he now reached over six feet, but with the height there seemed to come a distance. His eyes once deep blue and sparkling with laughter at the many jokes he and Harry had played together or at the lastest of the twins' antics were now cold and icy. They met Harry's and sent a thrill of cold down his back. His hair was long and in a messy ponytail, reminiscent of Bill's, but unlike Bill's it was ill-taken care of and matted. His figure had been reduced to nothing more than waxy abnormally pale skin drawn tightly over a bony figure. Ron's eyes finally released themselves from Harry's gaze and focused on a seat raggedly upholstered in scarlet fabric.

            A sigh was gently released from between Harry's lips as he drew his knees up to his chest. He looked so scared and alone. The dark circles under his eyes were glaringly apparent and his cheek bones were protruding nearly as obviously as Ron's.

            "Don't look so glum Harry," said Hermione in a comforting tone as she placed a hand on his shoulder and gripped it softly. Harry felt the comfort she offered and couldn't take it anymore. He tensed up into a ball of cold, hard muscle and bone.

            "Why are you here?" he shouted harshly as he pulled his arm from Hermione's grip. His eyes burned with the rage of a wild animal caught in a trap.

            "We're your friends Harry!" replied Hermione gently but with a tone of hurt in her voice. Her brown eyes held Harry's burning gaze with a steady calmness, daring him to lash out again. He knew she didn't deserve it, but it was so hard. This stigma that seemed to surround his every movement was suffocating him slowly.

            "He's not," said Harry with a vague gesture in the the direction of Ron whose face was twisted into a strained mask of indifference that just barely covered his guilt and disgust, "I didn't kill Fred and George, Ron!" cried Harry, trying to let off some steam, "I'm sorry they died. I'm even more sorry that your mother, the nicest woman I know, the woman who took me in as her own, had to lose all of her sons to Voldemort. First Bill and Charlie going to war, Percy joining the death eaters, the twins dying, and now you. Oh you're still here, but you're not Ron. You don't talk, you hardly eat or sleep. I was the one sitting next to your mother at the funeral. Remember that Ron? I held her hand and shed my tears. I didn't kill them Ron! It wasn't me!" This last burst of frustration exploded from between Harry's lips. The worst was the knowledge that when it came down to it, this whole ordeal, all the hundreds of deaths, were Harry's fault. He was the heir of Slytherin, the one Voldemort wanted and if he could just surrender himself it would all be over.  Dumbledore, though, had expressly forbidden it. He had called it pure foolishness and false martyrdom before setting up a number of precautions to keep Harry in line.

            "What's going on in here?" came the voice of Professor Snape as he burst into the compartment, "Why were you yelling Potter?" Snape was the teacher assigned to maintain safety on this trip of the Hogwarts Express. It was becoming so difficult to get anywhere now. Identity checks lined every portkey point and train station. Apparation was monitored so closely now that people were finding it more convenient to just take brooms.

            "Just letting off steam Professor. I'm sorry."

            "You ought to be Potter! Do you know how many people are watching your safety every moment? Everytime you shout we think danger and now you're simply crying wolf Potter. That's immature and inconsiderate!"

            "I'm sorry Professor," responded Harry, lowering his eyes to the floor in a show of humility, "It won't happen again."

            "It better not!" said Snape as he turned to go through the compartment door, "Oh, and Potter, you're desired in the headmasters office upon arrival at Hogwarts. Do be prompt, we don't want to have tos end out a search party because you have decided socializing with your friends is more important than a summons by the headmaster."

            "Of course Professor."


	3. Headmaster's Mission

Author's Note: This is going to be my reviewer's appreciation chapter…meaning your user names (or name as the case may be…so sad) will be discreetly inserted into the story…heh ^_^.

Headmaster's Mission

            Arriving at Hogwarts during a storm was no pretty matter. Its situation on the windward side of a hill paired with the mist that was blown off of the lake made visibility atrocious. It was in these conditions that Harry made his way off of the Hogwart's Express and onto the platform.

            "I'm going to the headmaster's office. Tell McGonagall if she starts to worry," said Harry as he ran into the storm. 

            He arrived inside the castle soaked to the bone and shivering terribly. He tried to smoothe down his hair and make himself look less like a drowned rat but eventually decided it was futile. 

            He rushed towards the gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the headmaster's office and whispered, "Intangible Lollypop". Whispering passwords had become common practice around the castle. Secrecy reigned in this unstable world and you never knew who was listening. Once the gargoyle sprang aside, Harry took the long staircase up to Dumbledore's office.

            "Harry Harry Harry…" murmured Dumbledore when he entered, "You could have taken time to dry off." He smiled and his eyes twinkled brightly, "Let us wait for your company."

            "Company?" Harry looked confused. He had assumed he was going to be speaking with the headmaster alone. Who could possibly be joining them? Sirius? No…maybe Lupin…No they were both in hiding. No, not…

            "Draco!" cried Dumbledore as the blonde-headed boy climbed the stairs.

            "Yes Headmaster?" said Draco stiffly, ignoring Harry's gawking stare, "You called me?"

            "Yes, yes. It is a grave time you two. Particularly grave that I must send you upon this mission." His eyes flashed cold and his voice suddenly turned business like, "You two, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy have been assigned to the final mission. It is…our last chance. You must destroy Voldemort and the death eaters."

            "Professor, why us?" asked Harry, "I mean, we're just students…"

            "And the closest in line to Voldemort," finished Draco, "I'm the son of his head henchman and Potter…you're his cousin."

            Dumbldore nodded and continued, "Malfoy, you will depart immidiately for the Dragon Lands in Africa. In the deeper areas, the death eaters are keeping a captive who is believed to have amazing powers. Potter you will remain at school until news of the success or…failure of Draco's mission have been confirmed." Dumbledore suddenly looked very old. He then handed each of them a silver cloak clasp, "Don't loose them. They will allow you access into Ministry controlled zones. You've no idea what I went through to get them for you. Dismissed."

            Harry and Draco both gave Dumbledore the typical military salute and departed. It was so strange how Hogwarts had changed. In Harry's first year life had been carefree and laid-back. There were worries, but nothing like this. Food was rationed and military exercises were run daily on the quidditch field. The stress was building. It was clear…War was coming.


	4. All Alone Amidst the Crowd

Author's Note: Aii! I haven't updated in forever. I've had tests, and then and evil Odyssey paper along with the school musical that ended up taking up every free moment of my life for the past few months. So all of my writing has been done in classes, which is really icky, but oh well. I know y'all don't want crappy excuses so I'll just leave it at that I'm really really sorry!

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. It belongs to JK Rowling and a bunch of other people who have money. I don't have money, so please don't sue me.

**All Alone Amidst the Crowd**

            Draco had originally thought that his mission was terribly romantic and heroic, but after four days of avoiding dark wizards, dragons, werewolves and other such beasties, he was less than excited. He continued to trudge along though. He was approaching the fire caves where this sorceress that he was meant to be saving was rumored to be located. 

            As evening approached, he decided to make camp about a mile away from his destination and get an early start into the caves in the morning. He really didn't want to have to deal with all those creatures of the night one found in highly magical areas. He smirked to himself, wondering what Potter was doing right now. Probably sitting in class, being a good boy like always. In Draco's opinion, Potter was a coward. Had it been him who could bring the downfall of Voldemort at the sacrifice of himself, well he would be gone already. To Hell with what Dumbledore wanted and commanded, it would mean the saving of humanity and, quite frankly, that meant more to him than some old man's cries. Draco was about to fall asleep when he caught, out of his peripheral vision, a dark, shadowed thing coming towards him. It was vaguely in the size and shape of a large man, but something about it didn't bode well with Draco.

            He pulled out his wand and aimed it straight at the figure, "Stop!" he shouted, then, under his breath, he whispered, "Lumos." The tip of his wand lit up slightly to reveal a man with long shaggy black hair and tattered clothes, "Who are you?"

            "If you keep making so much noise you will awaken all the dark wizards who have been following every step of your journey," said a raspy voice. The man came towards Draco until his was but a foot away, he thenbent over and whispered, "I'm a friend, and, for now, you will just have to believe me. I dare not speak my name out here. Follow me. Be quick, and make not a sound."

 The dark man lept off, lightly and soundlessly, into the woods. Draco followed him closely trying to make as little sound as possible. They continued to travel swiftly deeper and deeper into the forest. It was getting steadily darker, so Draco withdrew his wand, but before he could even whisper, "Lumos," the dark man grabbed his wand.

"If you try to cast light, I will break it." Draco's eyes widened and he carefully placed his wand back into his robes. They continued to travel soundlessly until they reached a cottage. It was quite a strange sight in the dark forest. It looked like a cozy little home with a cobblestone walkway and a chimney with a welcoming stream of smoke coming out of it.

Draco headed to the door and tried to open it, but the dark man grabbed his arm and pulled him to one of the wooden walls. The man whispered something that Draco could not hear and the wall opened into a hallway. The man grabbed a lantern and proceeded down the hallway. Draco followed him until they reached a sitting room that was furnished with large, comfortable-looking armchairs and a cushiony sofa. On a deep navy blue armchair with a silver star pattern on it sat a man who looked very familiar to Draco.

"P-Professor Lupin?" He stammered, quite shocked by finding this man in a cottage where a strange man had led him.

"Good to know that you remember me Draco. I don't believe you've met Sirius."

"Sirius Black?" Draco's pale face turned as white as a ghost. He suddenly realized that he had been led into a trap. This was Sirius Black, Voldemort's right-hand man, and a werewolf. It was obvious in Draco's mind that this would be the end of him, "You're going to kill me now, aren't you?"

"Stupid boy," said Sirius in a low growl as he sat himself on a blood-red armchair, "We're on your side. If you don't want to believe us, you can leave, but I'll have you know that no less than ten Death Eaters were following you, ready to kill if you got anywhere near their Sorceress."

"Draco," said Lupin calmly as he shot Sirius a look, "we have been in hiding here for a very long time. This location is a secret that is held by our Secret-Keeper, Harry Potter. Sirius is an animagus and he goes into town in that disguise to get news. He's well liked by the Death Eaters as his form is of a Grim, the great dog of death. He's the one who found out about the Sorceress and sent the news to Dumbledore. Now, stay here for the night. Tomorrow, I will show you a secret and unfollowable path to where the Sorceress waits."

"Mr. Potter? Mr. Potter!" McGonagall's calls for his attention echoed around the classroom unheeded by the boy. Hermione nudged him in the ribs and his attention finally turned to the Professor who looked quite unhappy, "Nice of you to join us Mr. Potter. Now, can you please tell me how a new spell is created."

Harry's mind had been wandering, but thankfully this had been a large part of his battle training over the summer, "Spells are more of a mental process than a spoken process. The most sure way is to take latin roots of what is being done and string them together. Or one can take a similar spell and simply concentrate on what it is that they're trying to do."

"Very good Mr. Potter, but next time, do try not to doze off in my class." Her mouth was set in a very thin line and she looked very disturbed my Harry's lack of attention, "Alright, class dismissed. Finnigan, Granger, Patil, and Thomas please report to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom to work on your project. Potter, you are to report to Professor Snape in his office. Everyone else, to the Quidditch Field for training, I will accompany you."

Harry exited the classroom and made his way to Snape's office. He wondered what the Professor could possibly want with him. He figured it had something to do with the mission he was supposed to be going on soon, but who knew. Last time he had been called into Snape's office it was because he hadn't reported to dinner, which had caused "Panic and Uproar." Snape had lectured him about how he needed to be aware of all the precautions surrounding him and how he couldn't be so careless. Harry had apologized profusely and then was dismissed to the secret meeting chamber where he spoke to Sirius and Lupin once a week.

            Finally he reached the door of Snape's office. He knocked three times and whispered the password, "Vraihéros." He entered the room and found not only Snape but also Arthur Weasley and Dumbledore in there frowning. They all looked so solemn, but none quite so much as Mr. Weasley who looked at Harry as though he were looking at his son. Even though they had no blood-ties, to some extent this was true. Percy had joined the ranks of Voldemort and Ron, well Ron was like walking death with his silence.

            "What's happened?" Harry whispered. Only something big would bring this.

            It was Mr. Weasley who spoke, "I'm sorry Harry." He stepped forward and place hid hand on the boy's shoulder, "But Hagrid…Hagrid was found and attacked by a group of Death Eaters. They used the Cruciatus Curse on him. He'll live, but the Cruciatus Curse, it does things to the brain. Nobody can take that much pain…"

            Harry turned white. A shaky hand raised to his face. He couldn't cry anymore. He just stood there all alone, even in the midst of people.


	5. Innocent Loss

Disclaimer: *sobs* Okay okay! I accept it! I don't own them. I cannot own the wonderfulness! It belongs to JK Rowling. Please don't sue me…

Innocent Loss I still remember the world from the eyes of a child. 

_Slowly those feelings were clouded by what I know now._

_Where has my heart gone?_

_And I'd even dream for the real world._

_Oh, I want to go back to believeing in everything and knowing nothing at all._

These sorts of things just shouldn't happen to innocent people, people like Hagrid least of all. What had he ever done to anyone? He was the most loyal, the most friendly person. He had gone to speak with the giants. Just gone to convince them that Voldemort was not going to be their savior. Just to help them become independent and form their own society. He had been repaid with a dark wizard's curse. If it had been a physical injury caused by giants. If he had died, it would be less painful. These beasts had the power to put him out of his misery, but here he was. He was stretched out on a large bed in his own room. His large figure was draped in white sheets pulled up to his chin. His eyes were open, but obviously unseeing.

"Hagrid…" whispered Harry in a shaky voice as he approached the man. For the first time in his life Hagrid seemed big to Harry. He had always been large, but lying in that big bed looking so vulnerable, so lost it finally struck Harry how much he was dwarfed by him, "Hagrid, it's me Harry…"

Hagrid looked towards the sound of the voice, "Harry? I don't believe I know a Harry. Maybe you have the wrong person."

Harry could feel the tears forming at the brim of his eyes. He shut them tightly and looked firmly at Hagrid and took his hand, "No, Hagrid, you know me. You…" Harry trailed off, "You were the first person to care about me…" he said in an inaudible whisper.

Hagrid just smiled an innocent little smile up at Harry from where he lay. He patted the boy's frail little hand that lay in his, "Don't be upset. The nurses here are very nice, they'll find who you're looking for."****

            Harry just shook his head and knelt next to Hagrid, brushing the long hair from his face. Arthur Weasley stood above him looking on, not wanting to interfere, but when Harry knelt down and hung his head, he couldn't help but place a comforting hand on the boy's shoulder.

            "Some of his memory will return, Harry. I promise you, he'll eventually remember you."  

            Harry nodded his head, but he knew it was a sympathetic lie. Neville's parents didn't recognize him, their own son, even now. How would Hagrid ever remember Harry? 

            "Can I have a minute alone, please Mr. Weasley…" 

Arthur looked doubtful, but he eventually left Harry alone and headed over to the Longbottoms' beds.

            "Hagrid, I know you don't remember me, but I'm Harry Potter. You rescued me when I was a baby. You took me to Hogwarts. You cared for me…"

            "Gracious, Harry Potter? I'm being visited by the famous Harry Potter," Hagrid continued to babble down these lines and no protests of Harry's could stop him. Harry just let him speak.

            "Young Malfoy," came Lupin's voice, "It is time to awaken."

            Draco opened his eyes and stretched. He was still in his robes that he had been wearing when he arrived at the cabin. It was still dark outside with only the slightest hint of pink where the sun was beginning to rise. He stepped out of bed and pulled on a cloak, "Let's go then."

            Lupin led him deeper into the woods, in the opposite direction of where he thought that they ought to be headed, but he had no choice but to follow. They went deeper and deeper until finally they reached a stone cavern with carvings of runes on it. Lupin stepped forward and placed his hand on the wall, "She's in there, your mission is almost complete."

            Draco stepped forward and walked into the dark cavern. In the black he could see but the smallest flickering of a fire, he walked towards that, when a burst of bright magic came at him. He fell to the ground, unconcious.

            Hermione and Ron were walking to class together. As always when around Ron, silence prevailed. Hermione was solemnly carrying her books under one arm, looking as if she was thinking of all the problems of the world. She suddenly turned towards Ron and looked at him curiously, "What can I do to make you happy, Ron? Your brother's aren't coming back. Why do you have to die with them?"

            Ron shot her a piercing glare and then quickened his pace with intention to pull away from her. His head was still down. His long, unkempt ponytail swung back and forth in beat with his gait. He looked like a man with a purpose, which was, in fact, the exact opposite of what he really was. He was a man without purpose, a man without reason or care. He simply existed. He did not know why, he just did.

            "Ron!" Hermione yelled, causing him to stop and turn around. He looked at her blankly, "Ron, why do you run from me? Why are you always running from everyone? Ron, Hagrid's been hurt, and you don't seem to even care. You just don't care anymore. I think if I were to die you wouldn't care."

            "Don't die 'mione…" he said simply, then turned around and kept walking.

            "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

            "My name is Draco." 

            "What's your surname?"

            "M-Malfoy…" if the voice was going to kill him, it would kill him whether or not he was the traitorous son of Lucius Malfoy, "Who are you?"

            "Sorceress Austera Corrinda Vestus."

            "Oh! So you're the Sorceress, come with me!" He took a step forward and was greated with a wand point up against his head.

            "You come one step closer, you die."


	6. One Step Closer

One Step Closer

_Don't turn away._

_(Don't give into the pain.)_

_Don't try to hide._

_(Though they're screaming your name.)_

_Don't close your eyes._

_(God knows what lies behind them.)_

_Don't turn out the light._

_(Never sleep. Never die.)_

_                                              ~**Evanescence, "Whisper"**_

****

"Don't die 'mione…" How could Ron tell her not to? How could he say to her, "Don't die"? He was already dead. He had chosen to die the year before and yet he told her to live. How could she live? "Don't die 'mione…" How dare he?! He couldn't tell her what to do! He couldn't be so hypocritical! It wasn't fair. She wanted to. Deep in the back of her mind, she wanted out. Everything had changed the day Cedric Diggory died. Everything had been flipped. Harry had become a soldier, Hermione had been assigned extra classes to assist the war effort, and Ron had been left behind. Since the beginning Ron had been left behind. He wasn't particularly great at anything and he didn't have a famous reputation. It seemed that he couldn't get out of where he stood, and that was in mediocrity. Deep in the back of her heart, Hermione wanted better for Ron, and for herself. Ron deserved better. Ron had lost so much and nobody had tried to repay him. What could Hermione do, though? What could she give him? He knew that she loved him and he knew that she would never abandon him. He knew the same thing about Harry.

"Ron!" she called and ran to catch up with him. He was so tall. He was so thin, "Don't you die either Ron Weasley."

"Hermione," he said dully, "You know…"

Harry couldn't sleep. He couldn't eat. He could hardly even go out anymore. The scar on his forehead burned all the time and it told him that something was coming. He lay curled up in bed growing frailer. The Weasley's were scared, Dumbledore nervous, and Sirius, well Sirius was practically fuming that Dumbledore wouldn't let him out of hiding to visit. It seemed that Remus had been told that if Sirius tried to leave, he was to curse him.

So Harry just lay there on his bed. Every day he went to visit Hagrid for an hour or two then came back to the castle where he would speak with Sirius and Remus for another couple hours. He then had training and lessons before free time. That was when he would lie in bed and just think. Thinking hurt. It would start with thinking about Ron and Hermione and his friends, then his parents, then Sirius and Remus, and it always ended up at the war, the war that he needed to end, the war that only he _could_ end.

Nobody understood the guilt. Everyone just thought that he had cracked, that it was stress. They thought that if they just left him alone and in the quiet long enough it would all become better. Well, it wasn't getting any better. Harry didn't need to be alone. Harry needed to be told that it wasn't his fault, because right at the moment he believed with all of his heart and mind that it was. It had to be his fault that Ron was so withdrawn, that Hagrid's memory was gone, that Remus and Sirius had to hide out, and that Fred and George had died. That was the worst guilt anyone could carry. In his mind, Harry had broken a family apart. It killed him every time he saw Mr. or Mrs. Weasley. It killed him everytime Percy's name was mentioned. It killed him everytime he saw Ron's blank, lifeless stare. Everyday it killed him more and more, and it was only a matter of time. To him, it was only a matter of time until he wouldn't be able to take anymore. He would be able to handle the slow, menacing eating of his heart. It was like insects. It would nibble and bite and rip a little piece off everytime, but never quite enough to give him a satisfying, relieving pain. It would give him only enough to shove him deeper down that path that has been given the bitter name despair.

"I'm not going to hurt you Sorceress. Put down your wand." Draco said, trying to keep the shake out of his voice.

"Don't you come any closer. Their most powerful couldn't control me, so they send in a handsome boy my age, I understand."

"Sorceress, it's not like that. I'm on your side."

"SILENCE! You are fooling nobody."

"You're fooling yourself." Muttered Draco.

"You will regret saying that."

"You're being paranoid! I'm trying to help you. I was sent on a mission by Dumbledore to save you! I have tracked through Africa. I have been burned, bitten, blasted, and bloodied by any of a number of creatures! Now, I want you to put down that wand and come with me!" 

"Prove it to me."

"What?"

"Prove to me that you're on my side…"

"Sorceress," moaned Draco, unable to think of how he could possibly prove it. He took a step forward and reached out his hand. A flash of white light filled the cavern, causing Draco to go unconcious for the second time that morning.

"I told you…one step closer…I warned you, Young Malfoy…I warned you."


End file.
